


the bad cell

by AwayLaughing



Series: lines of descent [7]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Bad Parenting, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hiashi's A+ Parenting, Loss of Parent(s), Neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4994431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're a shit parent," Nara Shikaku had told him once. Hiashi would have been less offended if it hadn't been true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the bad cell

“ _Will you always love me, Hizashi-nii?”_

 

“ _Of course, what a dumb question.”_

 

“ _Otousama says love is pointless.”_

 

“ _What would he know?”_

 

* * *

 

 

Hiashi knew no one expected him to walk into the impromptu meeting, not least because no one expected him to move from his brother's side on the same night of his death. But, Hizashi would not have thanked Hiashi for providing a dead man comfort when a living person would need so much more. The meeting stopped the second he swept in, eyes diverting his way.

 

“Hiashi-sama,” one of Ryouko's cousins said, “we were discussing whether myself or Jinta-san would be a be a better candidate.”

 

“It is inconsequential,” Hiashi said, earning a few semi-alarmed looks, “I am Neji's closest blood relative, he will be my charge.”

 

For a long moment, no one said anything, until Jinta shifted. “Hiashi-sama you have so many duties already,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a spooked animal. “And Azami-chan's getting older, I can certainly spare the attention and, with no disrespect to Hiroshi-san, I can train Neji-chan once the time comes.”

 

“This is not a negotiation any longer,” Hiashi said, “you can all go home. Hizashi's funeral is to be two days from now.”

 

“Of course, Hiashi-sama,” Hiroshi's wife said, finally speaking up. He felt a minor pang, knowing the two had been attempting to conceive and thus far failed. “We are sorry for your loss.”

 

“Thank you,” Hiashi said.

 

 _I lost him years ago,_ he did not say. He barely let himself think it.

 

* * *

 

 

They – Ume and himself – agreed it made no sense to force an already disraught little boy from his one place of comfort while it was so late, so Hiashi let Neji stay the night in his and Hizashi's house, before sending someone to collect him after breakfast. He didn't see the boy arrive, busy with the morning meetings, but once noon came and his mother was sufficiently fended off he made his way to the rooms on the hall off from the main one.

 

This hall was unused, tucked into a part of the house that overlooked the gardens and was close to the dojo. People tended to avoid it simply because the noise used to carry over, but it had been since remedied and now it was only habit that kept it from being filled.

 

When he arrived, he was a little surprised to find Hinata hovering in the door, peering in. He joined her, ignoring her squeak of surprise, watching as his wife, gracefully folded onto a sitting pillow, tried to talk to Neji. His heart clenched at the picture the child painted, pale and empty eyed, staring resolutely at the wall. Ume's pleas seemed to have no effect, and finally Hiashi stepped in, only to receive a look of warning from his wife.

 

“Neji-chan,” Ume said, “your uncle is here. Maybe you want to speak to him instead?”

 

Neji frowned harder, and his chin ticked up slightly in a move so Ryouko Hiashi could have laughed. Instead he frowned as well. “It is unwise to waste food,” he said, ignoring the look Ume gave him. Neji didn't react, apparently set on his course and Hiashi sighed, reaching forward only to earn a tiny flinch.

 

He stopped, hand half raised. “Neji-chan?” Ume asked, “are you okay?”

 

Neji continued to stare and lost for words, Hiashi turned on his heel and swept out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Hinata enquired after her cousin at supper that night, naturally. “Why is Neji-nii here?” she asked, head cocked. Hiashi made no move to answer her, letting Ume handle the delicate matter.

 

“Neji-chan is going to live here from now on,” Ume said, “but right now he's sad, so he's not coming to meals, I had Riku-san take him something.”

 

“Okay,” Hinata said with the acceptance of small children everywhere, “is Hizashi-jisan going to live here now?”

 

At this Ume sent him a look, and he forced himself to speak past the sudden choke hold of emotion. “My brother is no longer with us, Hinata-chan,” he said, earning a cocked head.

 

“Where is he?” she asked and Hiashi bit down his instinct to tell her to ask her mother. Ume was always after him to talk more to his daughter, never mind he didn't know how.

 

_You won't learn if you don't try, Hiashi._

 

“Hizashi-nii is dead,” Hiashi said finally, not knowing how else to explain it. Being the daughter of a shinobi did not magically make Hinata capable of understanding death, no matter how people wished this was true. “Like Ryouko-basan.”

 

Hinata had been told about her aunt, how she'd had to leave Neji and Hizashi because she'd been very brave, and gotten so hurt her body didn't work anymore. It still made Hinata frown, poking at her desert, bottom lip wiggling slightly.

 

“Can't he come back?” she asked, “Neji-nii is sad.”

 

“No, he cannot.”

 

“But-” Hiashi cut her off, grief shortening his temper considerably.

 

“Enough Hinata,” he said, and resisted the urge to message his forehead when she immediately wilted. Ume's dark eyes said very clearly he was in the shit, as she stroked their daughter's hair and whispered something. Hiashi barely waited for the servants to finish cleaning up before he left the room, ignoring the fact he should stay.

 

* * *

 

 

Hinata was already settled into her bed, but her story had not yet been started when Hiashi forced himself to knock on her door. Riku-san looked surprised, but obligingly told Hinata she read the story after Hiashi-sama was gone, unless Hiashi-sama would like to do so. Hinata just nodded, and watched as he came and settled next to her bed in the chair Riku-san used.

 

“I'm sorry otousama,” she said once he was sitting, surprising him. “Okaasan said you were sad about Hizashi-jisan leaving, like Neji-nii is. I didn't want to make you sad.”

 

Clearing his throat, Hiashi gently pat her knee, unsure what else to do. “You did not,” he said, “I am sorry. If you have any more questions about Hizashi-jisan, you can ask them now.”

 

For a minute Hinata just worried at her blanket, tiny hands gripping hard, before she looked shyly up at him. “If Hizashi-jisan made people so sad, why did he leave? Didn't he want to stay?”

 

The question froze Hiashi, because he could not tell her the truth. It was one he would never say out loud to anyone. “Sometimes you don't get to pick,” he said finally, “no matter how badly you want to stay.”

 

Worry creased Hinata's brow, “are you going to die too?”

 

“Yes,” he said, “but not right now. Hizashi-jisan made sure I could stay for a long time.”

 

“Really?” she asked, “Hizashi-jisan saved you?”

 

“Yes,” Hiashi said.

 

“Oh,” was the reply, and Hinata seemed to be thinking hard. “Otousama, can you read to me tonight?”

 

Hiashi flicked his gaze over to the brightly coloured book Riku-san had left. “Just this once,” he said.

 

Hinata smiled brightly all the same.

 

* * *

 

Hiashi more or less did not set eyes on Neji for another week, aside from seeing him at the funeral. There, Neji had been stone and ice, dressed in black and staring as resolutely as he had in his room. After that, however, Hiashi had busied himself with his duties, not even making time for the family dinners. Ume was displeased, but not as frosty as she was when he made a misstep with Hinata. She offered no news of his nephew, however, and Hiashi did not ask.

 

It would have, he conceded, remained like this as long as possible had he not felt the pulse of unfamiliar chakra one night while headed to bed at nearly 2AM. Pausing, he'd searched for it again, but found nothing and heard only the sound of the driving rains. He'd gone searching, however, and so now here he was, under the eaves of the dojo watching his four year old nephew furiously lashing out in the rain.

 

He was too young to any damage except to himself, but a few of the practice dummies moved a tiny amount under his barely coordinated onslaught. Hiashi saw promise in there, somewhere under the mud and childish lack of emotional restraint. He watched for a solid five minutes, until Neji missed his footing and wiped out spectacularly. When he levered himself up, he finally noticed his uncle and for a long moment neither did anything.

 

Finally, Hiashi turned away.

 

* * *

 

 

Ume storming into his office at nine the next morning wasn't exactly unexpected. The fact she completely ignored his mother was, the fact she slammed the door in the woman's face doubly so. “You utter bastard,” she said, slamming her hand on his papers, smudging some ink.

 

Ume was a gentle woman, over all, and her temper was generally a tame thing, never extending past curt chiding and cool gazes, but when she was truly angry she let everyone know it. Now, her dark eyes boring into his, he didn't have to guess at what this was about.

 

“Your nephew is a child, Hiashi, he needs protection and help not to be ignored.”

 

“Neji was in no danger last night from anything,” he said, even knowing he was lying. Ume's response was to forcefully pull his chair out so he had to look at her.

 

“Neji-chan is four, and grieving and angry. He is a danger to himself,” she said, “you brought him into this house, you don't get to just ignore him and leave him in a rain storm! He has chakra burns, cuts, bruises, a dislocated knee...the servants found him curled up _outside_ the dojo, it's freezing!”

 

“If I had forced him inside, he'd have just gone back out once I was gone,” Hiashi said. “I saw no point in doing so.”

 

Ume's eyes narrowed. “Saw no pointing in possibly saving your nephew's life – was Hizashi's death not _enough_?”

 

Hiashi did not even really realize he'd slapped her until his arm was back at his side. For a moment they stood there, her head still slightly back, cheek already red. He blinked, surprised by his own action, and made no move to stop her when she turned on her heel and left the room.

 

Outside, his mother gazed back at him, eyes as hard as always.

 

“Yes, mother?” he asked, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. His mother just sniffed.

 

“Your kimono is sloppy, fix it.”

 

* * *

 

 

For better of worse, the clan head meeting was a good excuse to avoid his family. His family drama was addressed with the cool, business oriented tone as everything else, and it wasn't until the end when the Hokage excused himself that anyone broached the manner in a less formal matter.

 

“How's Neji-chan doing then?” Tsume asked him, leaning across the table, ignoring the look Fugaku gave her when her elbow landed in front of him. “People who saw him at the funeral said he seemed pretty shut down.”

 

“Neji-chan is young, and has trouble dealing with such a large change in his life,” Hiashi said, “it is being worked through.”

 

“Poor little guy,” Chōza said. “Is he settling in?”

 

“It is a process,” Hiashi said, and ignored the clucks of sympathy, and the dark eyes on Chōza's left that studied him. Shikaku had a tendancy to regard everything and everyone like they were one of his strategy games. Right now, he was watching Hiashi like he was a wayward or ill positioned pawn. “Did you need something, Shikaku?”

 

Nothing changed in Shikaku's gaze, except the slight flare of amusement, and Hiashi forced himself not to react to the smug indolence. “Nah,” Shikaku said.

 

“Eloquent as always,” Hiashi said and Inoichi, never one to tolerate a tense atmosphere, leaned over.

 

“You think that's bad – did anyone ever tell you the story of my wedding?”

 

That earned a few grumbles, “everyone's heard that fucking story we were there,” Tsume said, and Shikaku finally looked away to regard the Yamanaka. Hiashi didn't feel any less watched, really.

 

* * *

 

 

Ume was still awake when he came home, seated in bed reading. She didn't say anything as he undressed, didn't even look up. He could still see the bruise on her face, however and finally her silence broke him.

 

“I am sorry,” he said, putting his kimono away, “it will not happen again.”

 

“It won't,” she agreed. “And if you ever hit Hinata, I will cut you into pieces, Hiashi.”

 

She wasn't a shinobi, but he imagined she would make a good go of it. “It won't happen again, to any one,” he repeated and she nodded, setting her book down.

 

“And now, I am sorry,” she said, “I should not have said that about Hizashi.”

 

Hiashi shook his head, sliding into bed. “You weren't wrong.”

 

She smiled at that, soft and sad, “I should not have said it,” she said again. “Some truths are not to be spoken.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hiashi could not remember the last time he cried. He certainly couldn't remember every turning to his parents for comfort, but he knew it was normal, so he let Hinata cling to his leg and sob even as he made no move to comfort her. To his left, Neji was as cold and withdrawn as he had been at his father's funeral two years past. Had been since then, save for the occasional burst of fiery rage he let out when he thought no one was there to witness it.

 

Or punish it.

 

It looked more wrong, now somehow. On the grey day of Hizashi's funeral it had fit, now, with the sun soaking into everything and over saturating things into a saccharine parody, he looked like a ghost.

 

He looked like Hizashi.

 

Cutting his eyes away, he landed on red-eyed Riku, clutching Hanabi to her chest. Hanabi was too young to understand what was going on, content to chew on a piece of frozen banana. Riku had attempted to get him to hold her, but Hiashi had refused. She saw it as coldness, but in truth he didn't trust his arms not to give out.

 

His wife was gone, nothing more than ash and some bone fragments now. And so few people cared.

 

While Hizashi's funeral had included people from all across Konoha, Ume's was smaller. Most the clan turned out as befitting her status, but only a few friends from outside of it, and her siblings where there.

 

As the chanting died down, people trickled out, muttering to Hiashi and then shuffling off. People were tired of funerals, and few in the clan could muster real sympathy for him. He knew that, he wasn't an idiot. They had real sympathy for Hinata, of course, but didn't dare approach her.

 

She continued to sob, even when he finally forced her off his leg.

 

* * *

 

 

The compound was quiet. The compound was always quiet, bar the dojo and the training grounds, but today it felt as everyone and everything knew what he had done. His father called it necessary, and perhaps it had been. He'd always hoped Neji's temper would mellow with time, but whatever drove him continued on, and as he got older it seemed to get worse, no matter how much the boy wore himself out.

 

He partly wished Hinata had some of that anger. Something to make her fight back, or at least walk with her back straight. Hanabi managed without it, but Hinata was not her sister, or her cousin or himself. She was Hinata, and Hiashi could see no way other than seperation to keep the scene from the dojo from happening again.

 

He still doesn't know what possessed him to have Neji spar with her – neither had wanted to but neither had dared say no. He'd seen it, however, and so shouldn't have been surprised when they both followed their natures. Hinata had tried – and failed – to go on the defensive, Neji had pressed forward, frustration leaking through his strikes.

 

And now neither would speak to him.

 

Well, Neji never attempted to speak with him, only spoke when spoken too, only as much as he needed to to avoid anyone's ire. Hinata likewise only spoke when prompted, though her problem was not prudence but fear. Fear of her own voice, it seemed sometimes and Hiashi rubbed his temples.

 

“Otousama?”

 

Hanabi, at least, had no problem communicating. Even when the other party failed to engage, in fact.

 

“Otousama,” she repeated, climbing up the steps to sit next to him. “Why is Hinata-neesama crying?”

 

Hiashi resisted the urge to sigh. Hanabi was too young to realize she wasn't supposed to tell him these things, not realizing her sister was trying to keep it a secret. Hanabi's biggest deception was not answering the question  _who ate the last cookie_. “She is upset,” he said. “You've been spying again.”

 

“I wanted to see neesama fight,” she said, “she didn't.”

 

No, she did not, alas, and Hiashi turned his face slightly. “You watched the whole spar?”

 

“Yes,” Hanabi said, a small crease appearing between her brows. “Neji-nii...” she trailed of. “Ojisama said he had to be punished.”

 

“Did he,” Hiashi said, not surprised. In his own way, his father loved Hanabi at the very least. What he felt for Hinata, Hiashi didn't bother wondering. If he felt anything at all for Neji, Hiashi would eat a geta. “Did he say why?”

 

“Yes,” Hanabi said, “then he said I'd understand when I'm older. Why did Neji-nii want to hurt Hinata-neesama?”

 

“Enough questions, Hanabi,” Hiashi said. Hanabi drooped, but didn't wilt like her sister would have.

 

“Is he gonna be okay?”

 

Hiashi thought of his brother, his other half and the person he'd loved most in this world. Thought of how his vibrancy had become a burden until he fractured under the weight of it. How Neji had that same vibrancy, combined with his mother's determination.

 

Then he thought of Ume, her sad, dark eyes. _Some truths you must never say._

 

“That's up to him,” he said. Hanabi sighed, realizing it was the most she got and trailed after him as he headed to their house.

 

“I want him to be okay,” Hanabi admitted. “And I want to play with neesama so she'll be happy again.”

 

Those simple, childish goals struck Hiashi has being so impossible he smiled, though his daughter didn't realize it was bitter and not happiness at her words.

 

“You can play too, otousama, so you can be happy,” she clung to his hand at that, not letting him shake her off.

 

“I have no time to play,” he said.

 

“Don't you want to be happy, otousama?”

 

Hiashi didn't even look down at her. “You don't always get what you want, Hanabi.”

 

* * *

 

 

“ _We're gonna be together forever, Hizashi-nii, no matter what okaasama says.”_

 

“ _Don't be silly, niisama. You have to do what okaasama says.”_

 

“ _But I don't want to, and I'm going to be clan head.”_

 

“ _I don't think even clan heads always get what they want, niisama.”_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There's my attempt at Hiashi's bad, abusive parenting. I have a lot of feelings about Hiashi as both a victim and a perpetrator as per the cycle of abuse, but I also wanted to offer at least one fic where Hiashi's shit parenting isn't some parody, especially from his own POV.
> 
> Also, I know in the filler I allude to here, Hinata didn't really know her sister and Neji, but I've elected to ignore that based on not liking it.


End file.
